Not weak
by DarkPheonix 666
Summary: France decides to visit England, but ends up finding him alone in the woods and upset, hiding his tears. Feeling sorry for the smaller nation, France decides to something nice to cheer him up. Showing he isn't a big a jerk as people make him out to be. Chibi FRUK, Chibi England, Chibi France, Childhood FRUK, Fluff, *Oneshot*, Child England, Teen France


**My first attempt at Chibi FRUK**

 **There aren't nearly enough fanfics of these two as kids, so hopefully I start a trend**

 **as a whole I feel like England is bullied way too much as a nation, as expected feels alert**

 **Anyway**

 **Please follow, favourite and review**

France wondered through the woods quietly, muttering to himself about having to go all this way to visit the stubborn blonde British nation. Honestly, he never made it easy for him. It seemed to have become a trend that when he had to visit England, it could never be easy and he always had to look forward to having to spend most of his time looking for him.

He certainly knew how to remain undetected, which would help him when it came to danger. Certainly knowing how to keep himself from being found unless he wanted to be. However, it made it problematic when his fellow nations came to visit. But should be come under any sort of threat, he wouldn't be easy to locate that was for damn sure.

"Angleterre? Where are you?" he called loudly, annoyance in his tone. For someone so small, he certainly won at playing hide and seek. Making it nearly impossible to find him. He could only hope he didn't jump out at him at any time. France had always been the type who was spooked easily. Though he never openly admitted it, so nobody would know his weaknesses.

He couldn't have everyone know he was a scaredy cat, everyone would make fun of him. As the big brother figure, he had to remain in control and make sure everyone looked up to him. So because of this, he tried to keep his nerves low so that if anyone jumped out he wouldn't scream or make a big reaction, thus giving away his secret.

He sighed heavily as he continued further into the woods. His patience running thin very quickly indeed "Mon Dieu, all zhis walking is not good for zhe body. I will have to stop soon" he muttered to himself. He may have been an immortal nation, but his body was still human. He could still take injury and get tired the same as anyone else, only his body took a bigger toll for it.

He kept catching himself on sharp branches, twigs and getting hit by leaves. He must look a state from all this, certainly not fashionable whatsoever. To boot his robes were getting covered in mud from the damp forest floor. He would have a lot of cleaning to do when he got back and his leader would certainly have a lot to say about his current appearance due to his antics.

As he got further into the centre of the woods, he finally found his break after what felt like forever. For there he spotted a familiar blonde mop of hair, belonging to none other than England himself. Well as the English saying went "Better late than never". Though it had taken an irritably long time to do so, he had finally found him.

He was about to chew out England for making him look for him on a wild goose chase, but as he got closer. He was surprised to see England was curled up in a ball and crying. He was hiding underneath the gnarled twisted roots of a tree. His blonde head bowed, his eyes red and swollen, pools of tears spilling down his face and soaking his robes.

Usually France would tease England for being such a whiny child. But he could see England was genuinely upset, his small body arching with every sob. For once, he actually looked like the child he was. How long had he been sat there alone, crying to himself and holding himself for comfort. Why had he not called out for help?

What was causing him such sadness? England was not the type to ever allow himself to look weak or show just how much he was hurting. Instead he kept it to himself and made sure to lock it inside his heart. Never letting anyone see him in his weakened state, this was the first time France had seen him in such a state in all the time he had known him.

He then slowly approached the tree where England was hiding alone with his sadness. As he got closer to his hiding place, he knelt in front of England silently, his maternal side coming out. Though he could be a tease, he was in fact a very loving person "Angleterre? Why zhe tears?" he asked worriedly. Had something happened? Whatever was wrong he would try and help.

He would never ignore someone be they a human or a nation if they were in trouble or despair. As the nation of love it was his job to make sure happiness and love was spread throughout the world. Because of this, he could not leave England alone when he was feeling such unhappiness, it went against his personal morals.

Upon hearing France's voice, England stiffened in shock. Cowering away from the older nation. He had never wanted anyone, especially France of all people to see him in such a pitiful state. He would only tease him like everyone else did, calling him out for being such a cry baby. He peered at France with a suspicious look "W… what do you want frog?" he sniffled trying to look brave.

He wouldn't let France know he was crying, he would just use it as more blackmail in the future. He knew him all too well, he loved to make fun of him. Ever since they had me for the first time, he loved to outdo him and show just how much more awesome he was as a country. Always having to be in the limelight no matter what.

France smiled at him warmly, his blue eyes filled with fondness "I came here to see you Angleterre" he replied. He had come to see how he was doing, to make sure he wasn't getting into trouble. It was a well known fact that England was a tough cookie, relying on himself to get by and learning to get by without anyone's help. Most likely stemming from being alone so often.

England's expression softened, but he didn't stop crying. The tears spill spilling down his small cheeks, he had probably just come all this way to make fun of him as per usual. But just because he was used to it, didn't mean he liked it one bit. Constantly finding himself to be the butt of everyone's jokes on a daily basis as much as he hated it.

Sensing his sadness, the other nation attempted to comfort him. France then knelt down beside the smaller nation quietly, no longer caring about his appearance. More concerned about the well being of the very upset England before him. He wouldn't leave him alone to cry like this, to do such a thing would be nothing short of cruel.

"Angleterre, please tell me what is wrong?" he asked worriedly. He couldn't stand to see England this unhappy. As much as he teased England, he did it purely out of good humour. He would never intentionally hurt England or do so out of spite. He was not cruel like that, to see England look so beside himself with sadness. It all but broke his heart to watch.

England was such a pure soul, so innocent and sweet. Curious in everything he came across and desperate to help others in whatever way he could. But was always pushed aside and told that he was too young to do anything, so he should just go off and play. But his heart was always in the right place, even if he made mistakes.

England slowly looked up at France, his green eyes glassy as more tears pooled up. He could see the genuine concern in France's eyes, knowing he was telling the truth when he said this. Somehow he felt he could trust France with the endless storm of emotions that lay inside his heart, desperate to be heard and shared with the world.

"I… I'm lonely" he replied tearfully. For so long this feeling had lingered in his heart, as much as he sought company. He was always alone, nobody wanted to have anything to do with him. He had the fairies to speak to, but that was all. Even though they made fun of him, they had been there for him since his birth. Easing the pain in his young heart when he felt forgotten.

All he could do in that time alone was forage for food, learn about his citizens from afar, talk to the fairies or find ways to entertain himself. I mean, he was too young to learn about using weapons or fighting yet. But he had a strong will and spirit, eager to learn which helped his people advance quickly without knowing of his actions.

"Scotland, Ireland and wales are always busy. They never visit me, even though I wait for them. Besides, when they do its always to tease me" he sniffed. Though they were family, they treated him like an outcast they were ashamed of. Scotland was always off in his own nation, talking to Nessie or his own mythical creatures. That or hunting, when he wasn't off at the bar drinking or worrying about his own country instead.

He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, trying to get rid of the tear stains on his face "Y… You don't like me either. Your always so mean! Y… you m…make fun of me. I can't h…help it that my style and food aren't as fancy as yours" he sniffled. He hated it when France constantly reminded him of how much better he was, reminding him of his own failures and shortcomings.

Everything just came so naturally to France unlike himself. He couldn't make good clothes, toga's and capes were just so much easier when hunting compared to how France never had to worry about such things. Making him feel like he could never compare to France no matter how hard he tried, that he would always be boring and unsophisticated in his eyes.

He lived a carefree life, he was able to enjoy good food and culture. While his country was still developing, and growing much slower than Frances. He watched his own people perish from natural causes because he was too weak to do anything. The only good thing he could say about his people was that they were resilient and strong willed like him.

He then burst into a fresh fit of tears, his emotions overcoming him "N… No m… matter h... how hard I try, I'm not strong enough. B… But I just want to be able to fight my enemies too!" he sobbed. One day he would be a big nation too, then he would be able to fight back and conquer those that took advantage of him. Being able to show he wasn't such a pushover as people thought him to be.

That he would be a powerful ally and enemy, they would fear and respect him like the others made him feel. He would fight enemies bravely and show no fear no matter what they threw at him. Taking out the bitterness he felt now on them, to see how they liked being pushed around and made to feel like a joke to everyone else.

But instead, he was treated like a punching bag and bullied by other nations. He was called names and called weak, but he didn't understand why. Why did everyone hate him so much? He wondered if he was just born as a nation to forever be alone. All of the other nations were strong, powerful and had very admirable traits. Creating their own culture and national treasures.

While all he knew was mythical creatures, magic and minor hunting skills. He couldn't fight, he was just too weak to do so yet. He was still a child, so helpless and unable to do anything but run. Run and hide like an animal would from a larger pray, if he didn't he would be found out or hurt waiting for someone to rescue him instead.

France's expression became pained, his heart breaking as England spoke ever word. Scotland and the others did care for England, he was their family after all. However, they did tease him way too much. Though they never understood how serious their actions may have felt towards England, they were slowly feeding his insecurities.

His young mind was absorbing information and skills as a nation, which would later allow him to grow and develop as he got older. But at the same time it was feeding him insecurities and pressuring him into feeling like he wasn't good enough compared to everyone else. That was what hurt France the most, to know England was comparing himself when he was fine just the way he was.

He had never meant to hurt England so badly. He never realized how his words would hurt him as much as they had. To hear England, say such cruel things about himself was just too sad to hear. He then pulled the smaller nations into his arms, pressing his face against his chest. Hugging him tightly as if he would break at any second if he kept crying. Feeling guilty for being so thoughtless with his words.

"Je suis désolé Angleterre. S'il vout plait ne pleure pas" he whispered in a pained voice. How could he possibly think that everyone hated him? To hear such words from someone so young was nothing short of heart-breaking. At his age, all he should care about was having fun and playing instead of thinking about the stresses of running his country yet.

He hated seeing England look like this, like his world was falling apart. He was still so young as a nation and was growing slower than the others. But he had plenty of time to become strong one day. Till then he would stay by his side and keep him safe, as long as it meant he wouldn't cry anymore. As long as he didn't say anymore sad words like this, he would do whatever it took.

England stiffened in shock as France wrapped his arms around him. A warmth he had not felt in so long eloping him, causing his insecurities to vanish like magic. Holding him in a warm embrace, pressing him close to his chest. It had been so long since anyone had given him a hug, hell since he had been shown any form of affection whatsoever.

The overwhelming sensations flowed through England. He then sobbed into the older nations chest, venting all of his emotions into his tears. Not caring if he got snot or tears on France's robes, he just needed to let it all out. He was sick of being alone and being the butt of everyone's jokes, it not like he could change who he was as a country after all.

* * *

France and England sat on a hill, overlooking the forest quietly together. After crying for so long, England had passed out on France out of exhaustion. Falling into a deep sleep on his chest. France had carried the small nation before he found the hill they now sat on. Holding the small nation in his arms as he slept, hugging him tightly as he woke up from his comatose nap.

France held the small nation on his lap protectively, his arms wrapped around him "Are you feeling better Angleterre?" he asked gently. He needn't push himself, he had been through a lot earlier. He was surprised he had gotten as far as he did when he found him, he certainly had a strong stamina for someone who was as young as he was.

England looked up at him, his expression dazed and his eyes red from crying. He nodded weakly in response, he was still somewhat tired from crying so hard. However, now he was hungry. His stomach gurgled loudly to confirm this. He had been crying for so long, he had used up what little energy he had. Causing him to pout in response to his body making sounds.

France smiled fondly, after that whole crying session he would have used up a lot of energy. He then pulled out some cookies from his pocket, he had made some earlier today and hoped to show them to him. In the end, it had become more useful than he expected, after crying so much he must have been starving. "Here, I know how much you love sweets" he offered kindly. They would help him restore the energy he had lost earlier.

England softened, a bashful blush colouring his cheeks. His mouth watering at the sight of them and the delicious scent they gave off. He then hesitantly took one of the biscuits and began to eat it. Upon tasting it he perked up, his green eyes shining with delight. As always, France's food was delicious, making him jealous and happy at the same time.

France smiled in relief to see England eating,glad he was restoring his energy and blood sugar levels. He then took one for himself as he admired the view, chewing on the treat in delight. The two of them sitting on the hill together admiring the view, enjoying some homemade biscuits together.

 _ **Translations**_

 **Je suis désolé Angleterre. S'il vout plait ne pleure pas-I'm sorry England, please don't cry**


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